


incendiary

by Jemi



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, cats are actual cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemi/pseuds/Jemi
Summary: a collection of short prompts for tuggoffelees week on tumblr.
Relationships: Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	1. day one - first meeting

**Author's Note:**

> oof, i can't promise how much i'll keep up with this, but i'm going to do my best! these are all going to be very short, for the most part, just to keep burnout away and also challenge my wordy self.
> 
> hope you all enjoy!

“And exactly what do you think you’re doing?”

Finding a great unruly mass of fluffy tabby fur sprawled across his garden wall (right in one of his favorite sleeping spots, _might he add_ ) was decidedly not how Mistoffelees had intended to spend his afternoon. He’d known of the other tomcat that made his home in the human den adjacent to his own, of course -- after all, it was rather difficult for one cat to remain in such close proximity to another without realizing the tell-tale signs of their presence Up until now, Mistoffelees had been perfectly content to keep to himself in his own little domain, patrolling the gardens that he could now call his own and not seeking to impose on the territory of another cat.

His neighbor, it seemed, had other ideas.

A single, amber eye cracked open to stare at him before closing once again. “ _Sleeping_ , if you must know,” came the other tom’s voice, a deep, rumbling sort of drawl that all but oozed a lazy confidence that rose the fur along Mistoffelees’ back. How _dare_ he! As if falling asleep on the boundary between one territory and another was as simple as all that! Surely, this tom had to know as well as any cat should what a transgression he’d committed. 

Or, perhaps, he simply didn’t care. Perhaps, worse still, he thought he had a right to, given that he’d been here far before Mistoffelees’ humans had taken him in. The thought was enough to draw a low hiss from his throat. “Well, you’re _sleeping_ in my garden,” Mistoffelees retorted, lifting his chin imperiously as he drew himself up, “and...and, I’d very much suggest that you leave.”

(That part admittedly came out slightly less than confident -- he’d never really been in this sort of situation before, after all.)

“Do you?” The golden tabby’s voice was still _maddeningly_ nonchalant. “My, my. That’s not very neighborly, you know. Has nobody bothered to teach you any manners at all?” 

“It’s not very neighborly to sleep in another cat’s territory, either,” Mistoffelees pointed out, lifting his chin defiantly

A lazy, almost sultry smirk curled its way across the tomcat’s muzzle. “You could always join me, you know. There’s room enough for two.”

Mistoffelees felt the tips of his ears burn and the fur along his spine begin to bristle. Room enough for two indeed! Not for the first time in his life, he fervently wished that he were a bigger cat, at least enough so to be taken seriously by this...this _intruder!_

“No, thank you,” he said primly, drawing himself up again. This time it was more a matter of dignity than intimidation. “There are plenty of better spots to sleep in _my_ territory. Keep this one, if you must — I have no use for it.”

With that, he was off, his bobbed tail held as high in the air as he could manage. Had Mistoffelees turned around, he might have caught sight of the other tom lifting his head sharply from his seemingly lazy half-doze, might have heard him curse himself quietly and watched him slink, wounded, off into the bushes of his own garden. Instead, however, Mistoffelees merely continued his search for a spot to nap and put the strange cat out of his mind.

Such a shame that the golden tabby wouldn’t stay there for very long. And, oh, how they’d _laugh_ in the years to come, sprawled out in the sunshine together and bickering playfully about exactly who’s garden that wall really did belong in. 

They never did figure it out, really -- not that either of them could bring themselves to care.


	2. day two - first kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoever wrote this list is oppressing me for writing the character as actual cats and,
> 
> (this is a joke, i'm joking, i actually had a good time figuring this one out and am surprisingly quite happy with the results!)

“What’s that you’ve got there?” Mistoffelees tilted his head slightly, crouching down to get a better look at the little box he’d happened across Tugger batting at. 

It wasn’t a particularly remarkable-looking thing, really -- just a chipped-up wooden box with some sort of metal handle sticking out of the side. Had he himself been the one to come across it in the ever-growing piles of human junk that made up the home of the Jellicles, Mistoffelees didn’t think he’d have given it more than a second glance.

“Oh, just some funny little thing the humans have thrown out,” Tugger replied loftily, as though most of his attention weren’t focused on undoing the fiddly latch that held the box shut. “One of my girls has something like it in her bedroom. It’s meant to make music or some such thing, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Music?” Mistoffelees twitched an ear, looking the box over again with renewed interest. He’d known, of course, that humans had several ways of capturing music for their own and playing it at their leisure, but this particular method was one he could honestly say he’d yet to encounter. “And, exactly how does it go about doing that, hm?”

The latch clattered lightly as Tugger’s claws fell away from it again, causing the larger cat to huff in a vaguely irritated fashion. “There’s a little...metal thing inside that plays it, once the lid’s open.” He flicked his tail, giving the box one of those looks of disdainful contempt of which only felines are truly capable. “I’d show you, but -- well. This one doesn’t seem to be quite so cooperative as I’d hoped.” 

The other cat’s sulking was enough to prompt a quiet chuckle from Mistoffelees, who padded up to stand beside Tugger properly. “Well, be that the case, I suppose I could always just…”

He gestured towards the little box with a quick, sharp flourish of his paw, and with a soft ‘click’, the latch undid itself, allowing the lid to slowly rise. The tune that poured forth from within was, Mistoffelees had to assume, just a touch too tinny to have been what its creator must have intended, touched with age and inevitable decay as the box was. But all the same, it was light and sweet, a slow waltz that reminded him of the way he’d seen some of the mated Jellicle pairs dance while preparing for their place in the upcoming Ball. 

The tips of his ears blazed with heat at the thought, so much so that Mistoffelees almost immediately put it out of his mind. Everlasting, Tugger was sitting  _ far _ too close for him to be entertaining that sort of thing…

“ _ Marvelous _ ,” the Maine coon purred and Mistoffelees cursed his heart for fluttering so suddenly in his chest at the mere sound of  _ that _ tone in his companion’s voice. And Tugger didn’t stop there, oh no. Had Mistoffelees not known better, he might have thought the other cat had read his mind, for, in the blink of an eye, Tugger was on his paws and bowing low, his amber eyes glittering enticingly. “May I?” 

“May you what?” Mistoffelees laughed, although the sound was perhaps a touch more high-pitched and fluttery than he might have liked. “Dance with me? Honestly, Tug, don’t be silly.”   


“Oh, come now, Misto.” The wounded expression on Tugger’s face was almost comically exaggerated. “I’ve not seen you practice for the Ball at  _ all _ , and it certainly couldn’t hurt to start now, hm?” 

Heaving a great sigh, as though this were all little more than a dreadful inconvenience to him, Mistoffelees rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable, you know,” he told Tugger primly, even as he lowered himself in a bow of his own.

Tugger merely grinned, stepping forward to guide the smaller cat into a twirl with a swish of his tail that almost bordered on  _ elegant _ . “Ah, but terribly persuasive, it seems.” 

The box’s sweet, tinkling tune played on as the two of them turned in slow, graceful circles around their little clearing. Once, when he’d first been brought to the junkyard and heard tell of this mysterious Ball the Jellicles spoke of in excited whispers, Mistoffelees had worried that, perhaps, dancing wouldn’t come so very easily to him. Visions of spending an entire evening tripping repeatedly over his own paws and generally making a fool of himself had plagued him far more often than he might have cared to admit, which was likely why, as Tugger had said, he’d not even begun to think about practicing.

Now, however, it seemed every fiber of his being somehow knew what it was to dance. It was, Mistoffelees thought, as his sleek pelt brushed against Tugger’s, a little bit like doing magic -- an intrinsic extension of himself, as natural and easy as the breath in his chest and the slow blinking of his eyes. His paws seemed simply to  _ know  _ where to place themselves, so attuned they were to the music that floated through the air, and his whole body felt light and airy, as though at any moment, his tether to the ground could be lost and send him floating up to dance among the stars.

It helped too, he supposed, to have a particularly gifted partner. Mistoffelees would have never expected Tugger to be capable of anything even remotely bordering on graceful, and yet in the absence of his typical prancing and peacocking about, the Maine coon was as lovely and elegant a dancer as any Jellicle.

Somehow, Mistoffelees found he cared little for the specifics of  _ how  _ or  _ when _ , he found himself leaning into Tugger’s mane as the musical box slowly began to wind itself down, closing his eyes and allowing its last strains to guide his paws. For a moment, he was sorely tempted to use his magic in order to keep it going just a little while longer -- but, he knew, if his partner were to notice, he’d likely never hear the end of it. Besides, surely he wasn’t quite  _ that  _ desperate just yet.

Still, it was with a great deal of reluctance that he forced himself to pull away from Tugger’s soft pelt, dropping into another low bow as the box plinked out its final note. 

His partner flashed him a roguish grin as he rose from his own bow, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. “There, now. That wasn’t so very difficult, was it? I daresay any cat would be quite lucky to have you for a partner, come the night of the Ball.”

Oh,  _ Everlasting _ , did Tugger  _ have  _ to look at him that way when he said things like that?

“Yes, well. That remains to be seen, I suppose.” Mistoffelees glanced downwards, shuffling his front paws against the ground in a rather uncharacteristic bout of self-consciousness. “...I do hope I’m not only as good as my partner.”

Tugger looked as though he were about to reply, but Mistoffelees cut him off. “Thank you. For the dance, I mean. I...I think I ought to go rest for a bit. It’s late.”

A puzzled expression flickered across Tugger’s features, but if he had any protestations to make, he kept them to himself. “Well -- far be it from me to keep you,” he replied, somewhat slowly. “...You’re very welcome.”

Mistoffelees gave him a faint smile. Before he could even begin to think twice, he was on his paws and, in one fluid motion, had stolen forward to rasp his tongue across Tugger’s cheek. The contact was brief and light, more like the brush of a butterfly’s wing as it took flight than a proper display of affection, and no sooner had Mistoffelees broken away than he was gone, vanished into the shadows as though he’d never even been there in the first place. 

In his wake, Tugger lifted a paw to his cheek and  _ beamed _ .


	3. day three - fight/reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heavy emphasis on "reconciliation", haha. i'm not very good at making our boys argue for very long, i don't think.
> 
> fun fact: this was originally going to be the first kiss drabble! but it ended up fitting this one a little better.

“You shouldn’t be so afraid, you know. To show them what you’re capable of.”

“Afraid?” Mistoffelees twitched an ear, his gaze flickering from the night sky overhead to the face of his companion. All around them, the garden that belonged to Tugger’s humans lay still and serene, with only a light summer breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tug. I’m hardly afraid of my own magic.”

The larger cat gave a brief flick of his tail. “That,” Tugger began, eyeing Mistoffelees, “is not what I meant and you know it.”

Mistoffelees huffed. In all the time he'd spent in the Maine coon’s company, he’d come to realize that Tugger had something of a knack for recognizing his attempts at deflection -- and, worse still, he wasn’t afraid of bluntly pointing them out.

“I’m only being practical,” he replied after a moment, suddenly very interested in the small marks his claws had left in the dirt. “No one in the junkyard can speak your brother’s name without everyone looking like they’ve been clawed in the face. How in all the Heaviside do you think they’ll feel, knowing they’ve had another magical cat in their midst for all this time?” 

He didn’t have to wait for an answer. Part of Mistoffelees wouldn’t have even blamed them for being afraid, really, not when he’d already heard the countless fearful whispers that made their way around the junkyard whenever there was mention of Tugger’s brother. He would have never, not in a million lifetimes wished to be normal --  _ Everlasting _ , no. But, he did, on occasion, wish fervently for a way to show the others that magic wasn’t dangerous, that such things depended entirely upon the heart of the cat who wielded, rather than the nature of the thing itself.

“You’re not giving them nearly enough credit,” Tugger retorted, and although he’d dropped his gaze, Mistoffelees could feel the other cat watching him intently with those smoldering amber eyes of his. “I know my family, Mistoffelees — and more importantly, they know  _ you _ .”

“And did they think they knew Macavity, too?” Mistoffelees hissed abruptly, whipping his head around to glare daggers at the larger tom.

The look in Tugger’s eyes was so startled and wounded that Mistoffelees instantly felt his tense, defensive stance drop. Again, he looked away. “...I’m sorry,” he murmured, after a long stretch of silence. “Really, Tug, I...I didn’t mean it like that, I just--” 

Carefully, Tugger shifted nearer to him in the grass, close enough now that Mistoffelees could lean almost automatically back into his mane. “I know, darling,” he said, nuzzling at his ears soothingly, “I know.”

Mistoffelees breathed a low sigh. “...I just...need a bit more time. The others, they don’t even really know me yet, you know? They’ve barely any reason to trust me.” And, vice versa, he supposed. Sometimes he had to wonder if he’d ever really feel brave enough to tell them the truth. The thought of all those eyes, eyes that he was just coming to know and even to love as fiercely as though he’d known them all his life, staring at him with fear and contempt was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine.

He hadn’t realized just how badly he’d wanted this -- wanted a family and a place to belong amongst these Jellicles, not until it was placed at his paws. To risk losing that over something he could so easily hide...well. It certainly wasn’t anything Mistoffelees wanted to consider just yet. Selfish of him, perhaps, but could he really be blamed?

Tugger sighed against him, burying his muzzle briefly into Mistoffelees’ sleek fur. “It’s just hardly fair.” he murmured, and Mistoffelees twitched an ear at the almost mournful note in his voice. “Your magic’s not meant to be hidden, love -- you ought to be able to  _ share _ it.”

A quiet, satisfied purr rumbled in the back of Mistoffelees’ throat, despite himself. “Don’t you think you may be a little biased?  _ You _ think even my simplest tricks should be put on a stage.” 

“Ah, but they should!” Tugger grinned. “Any audience would be privileged simply to watch you perform at all.”

“ _ Flatterer _ .” Mistoffelees averted his gaze, although it did little to mask the fact that his purring had grown a touch louder. It didn’t go unnoticed, either, if the gentle press of Tugger’s nose to his ears was anything to judge by. 

“Mm. And such well-deserved flattery it is,” the larger cat purred, and the undercurrent of warmth beneath his self-satisfied tone was enough to make Mistoffelees’ heart flutter pleasantly in his chest. 

Obligingly, he turned over onto his back, practically melting with contentment as Tugger gently nuzzled into the soft. snowy fur beneath his chin. Everlasting, who would have thought one cat could have such an  _ effect  _ on him? “Careful,” Mistoffelees teased, a smirk playing at his muzzle, “you’re likely to give me an ego as bad as yours one of these days, if you keep up like this.”

Tugger’s expression was almost unbearably soft as he pulled back to meet his mate’s gaze, and for a moment, Mistoffelees was nearly frozen beneath the sheer depth of  _ adoration  _ that glowed in those lovely, amber eyes of his. “Oh, just you wait, darling,” he purred, “you’ll never be able to keep me quiet once the tribe knows everything. I’ll be the first one there singing your praises -- see that I’m not.” 

( _ And if only they’d know how  _ right  _ he was _ .)


End file.
